Spin from a different thread today.
Despite everyone knowing about the Bay, not a lot of cats realize just how much good music was made in the Bay. Stuff that rattled trunks from the Lake to 105th, but didn't make much further than that (although there are some major exceptions to that too).
Adding to that, I'd dare say that we lost more (talented) rappers than any other region.
So let's appreciate the Bay Area. I'm going to drop some of my favorite songs in this thread. Comment if you like and drop your own links too.
First Up:
Rappin Ron & Ant Diddley Dog Ft Seagram, Too Short - Dirty Work
RIP to Ron...he could have been one of the best to ever do it IMO. RIP to S-E-A-G...a real live gangster...
Ron & Ant Diddley Dog Ft Seagram, Too Short - Dirty Work - YouTube
(From OHHLA)
[Mr. Ill]
I beat repeat offenders, they end up with they back split
And ass-backwards, when I let the mac click
And "Aww shyt" is what they say
Three strikes you're out apparently, you thought I was playing?
But I weigh in at a ton
A scuffle left you muffled cause I had to get my gun
And Mr. Snuffalufugus couldn't snort this
Cause Oakland, California got funk like shyt
And it hits just like a Tyson blow
Well can't you see that Mr. Ill's got the nicest flow?
Well now you know, that hoes get crept up on to
So what you gonna do when I creep up on you?
Cause if I keep a few to myself, you'll never know
Repeat offenders get bent like fenders when I'm on the go, hide your dough
Or I'm a get my stab on, huh and leave you bloody buddy like some tampons
So get your ass on before I turn the gas on and get my smash on
nikkas better dash, holmes, before I get my blast on
Cause open arms will be waiting
Sin's my friend, and I'm kin to Satan, I'm debating
Whether or not you can keep your weight in, and tasting
MC's like bloods for dinner, I beat repeat offenders
They end up hurting for perping, so throw the fukking curtain
Cause it's straight Dirty Work, man
[Seagram]
Straight from the East Bay, home of the AK spray
Make way for the S-E-A
G, O.G. Baller
Late night night crawler, 69th shot caller
Body hauler, so label me the grim reaper
Play your dome, see the game
Lead it with the 60-shot heater
The Seagster is back, you can't knock it
Here to straight tax, you nikkas that's outta pocket
Clocking a grip is a must, and living plush
Check me as I rush another buster to the dust, plus
My crew has more Braves than Atlanta
Uzi's got diarrhea, can't be stopped with Mylanta
Not from Tampa, but from the Bay
And I'm a Buccaneer, AK spray, so duck when I'm near
Fear, or come up missing
Listen when I catch you on my mission
You'll be found by someone fishing
Ain't no provisions or precautions I'm causing
Havoc, tragic, terror, there'll be no errors
Or flaws when I'm on the crawl, through all
Weather, the ball wedger, making nikkas pallbearers
I dare a featherwieght to fukk with this heavyweight
Then I have to shake and bake and hit him with his mac AK
In his face, paint the walls with his blood walking
Over nikkas like a rug, never dropping duds
I'm from the hood of AK's and ski masks
nikkas out of pocket ain't getting ghetto passes
Blasted, is how you'll be greeted, from the
Fully auto mag, nikkas want some static
Better call for help cause you gon' need it
Cause I'm a unleash it, window down
On the trey AK spit with minor jerk
Better duck or get caught up in the Dirty Work
[Ant Diddley Dog]
I ain't got shyt to lose, cause five-oh sweat me anyway
So I use my survival tecniques in many ways
shyt if a nikka ever hustles, why not cut some rocks?
And if ever a nikka try to show some muscle, why not bust some shots?
Yeah, I got some sinister thoughts, in the back of my head
Ready to stack 'em up dead, I hate leaving the house without packing a bled
I got the heart of a killer in me
I've inhaled so much bomb smoke that I can fill a chimmeny
Man they should have never let me loose
Cause that crazy shyt don't faze me, bytch, it just kept me juiced
Crack selling, blackmailing and making presidents
And I ain't hesitant to burglarize your residence
Yeah it's that villian and I'm thinking of jacking tonight
Another killer cause my money ain't stacking too right
Down on my luck, I'm stuck cause my pockets is flat
Yeah I got my gat, so why the fukk do I have to stop why I act?
I got one motherfukking chance, buddy
And my intentions is to get my damn hands muddy
Her man's bloody cause I'm nutty when I start searching
Killing nikkas is my job and I'm hard working, fool
I'm up all night with an early rise
Waking up, twisting up motherfukkers like some curly fries, yeah
I'm trying to ride drop-top Vettes slamming
Utilizing these bytches with high credit cards that be check scamming
Yeah, some motherfukking Eastside thangs
So blaze up a fat sack and let your G ride swang
I'm in the game from the town and I'm stacking plenty
A gangsta-ass nikka with that macking in me
So if a nikka try to run up, I'm a hurt him first
And let him know I'm a G at this Dirty Work
[Too $hort]
W-O-R-K, I got a gang of hoes that like to work all day
And if you think that shyt ain't all right
I got some more hoes that like to work all night
But that's not the point, I'm trying to make
My shyt is so funky, got you buying my tapes
Year after year and I still ain't stopped
Got millions of fans and I still ain't pop
And I come so real, bytch, you can't stop
My motherfukking track record, you can faint and drop
And I wouldn't give a fukk cause I'm nothing but a dog, bytch
And you're nothing but a slut, want all dikk
But this nikka named $hort don't fukk for free
No punk-ass bytches coming up on me
And no nikka can tell me what to do with my life
Can't talk about $hort, you're brand new on the mic
Me and all my potnas got bytches, fool
And I be spitting on the mic about the shyt we do
I be a broke-ass pimp on the 31st
But tomorrow I be putting in some Dirt Work, bytch
[Rappin' Ron]
Ron's doing dizzert, leaving them nikkas hizzurt
Running up with that punk shyt, thinking that bootsy shyt work
fukking with them busters and you think that your back's got
The only thing that's got my back is this 16-shot black lock
And Ron is one of them nikkas you can't fukk with, so fukk that
Every time you bust bytch, I duck quick and bust back
If you want some motherfukking funk nikka, come and get this
And watch your ass fall like the London Bridges
You run with bytches, you just another sucker
Run up and fukk with us and you can suffer, motherfukker
And let me emphasize that I don't empathize
Straight to your brain til the pain intensifies
And if the cops hit my block, and they stopping to jock
fukk it, then I'm packing a glock, and popping a cop and watching him drop
I'm not finna stop, fukk 5-oh, fukk task, fukk the Feds
All you suckers buckle cause you fukking with a knucklehead
I kick your ass like Gymkata
And bust your motherfukking head wide open like a pinata
And all them finks who ratted me off and tried to jinx
Hit them nikkas block with the street sweeper
And now they whole crew extinct
I ain't playing, what I'm saying is that I'm spraying with a gat
fukking laing my AK and lay him on his back
Lay him flat, fukked up from the rat-tat-tat-tat
See my straps is ready to buck, soo all you saps get ready to buck
I'm giving a, fukk, Ron's about to fukk 'em up
Buck a uppercut or buck, I'm leaving these motherfukkers stuck
Cause I'm just a nut from the street leaving 'em deep in the dirt
And as long as you sleep I'm a keep doing Dirty Work
Despite everyone knowing about the Bay, not a lot of cats realize just how much good music was made in the Bay. Stuff that rattled trunks from the Lake to 105th, but didn't make much further than that (although there are some major exceptions to that too).
Adding to that, I'd dare say that we lost more (talented) rappers than any other region.
So let's appreciate the Bay Area. I'm going to drop some of my favorite songs in this thread. Comment if you like and drop your own links too.
First Up:
Rappin Ron & Ant Diddley Dog Ft Seagram, Too Short - Dirty Work
RIP to Ron...he could have been one of the best to ever do it IMO. RIP to S-E-A-G...a real live gangster...
Ron & Ant Diddley Dog Ft Seagram, Too Short - Dirty Work - YouTube
(From OHHLA)
[Mr. Ill]
I beat repeat offenders, they end up with they back split
And ass-backwards, when I let the mac click
And "Aww shyt" is what they say
Three strikes you're out apparently, you thought I was playing?
But I weigh in at a ton
A scuffle left you muffled cause I had to get my gun
And Mr. Snuffalufugus couldn't snort this
Cause Oakland, California got funk like shyt
And it hits just like a Tyson blow
Well can't you see that Mr. Ill's got the nicest flow?
Well now you know, that hoes get crept up on to
So what you gonna do when I creep up on you?
Cause if I keep a few to myself, you'll never know
Repeat offenders get bent like fenders when I'm on the go, hide your dough
Or I'm a get my stab on, huh and leave you bloody buddy like some tampons
So get your ass on before I turn the gas on and get my smash on
nikkas better dash, holmes, before I get my blast on
Cause open arms will be waiting
Sin's my friend, and I'm kin to Satan, I'm debating
Whether or not you can keep your weight in, and tasting
MC's like bloods for dinner, I beat repeat offenders
They end up hurting for perping, so throw the fukking curtain
Cause it's straight Dirty Work, man
[Seagram]
Straight from the East Bay, home of the AK spray
Make way for the S-E-A
G, O.G. Baller
Late night night crawler, 69th shot caller
Body hauler, so label me the grim reaper
Play your dome, see the game
Lead it with the 60-shot heater
The Seagster is back, you can't knock it
Here to straight tax, you nikkas that's outta pocket
Clocking a grip is a must, and living plush
Check me as I rush another buster to the dust, plus
My crew has more Braves than Atlanta
Uzi's got diarrhea, can't be stopped with Mylanta
Not from Tampa, but from the Bay
And I'm a Buccaneer, AK spray, so duck when I'm near
Fear, or come up missing
Listen when I catch you on my mission
You'll be found by someone fishing
Ain't no provisions or precautions I'm causing
Havoc, tragic, terror, there'll be no errors
Or flaws when I'm on the crawl, through all
Weather, the ball wedger, making nikkas pallbearers
I dare a featherwieght to fukk with this heavyweight
Then I have to shake and bake and hit him with his mac AK
In his face, paint the walls with his blood walking
Over nikkas like a rug, never dropping duds
I'm from the hood of AK's and ski masks
nikkas out of pocket ain't getting ghetto passes
Blasted, is how you'll be greeted, from the
Fully auto mag, nikkas want some static
Better call for help cause you gon' need it
Cause I'm a unleash it, window down
On the trey AK spit with minor jerk
Better duck or get caught up in the Dirty Work
[Ant Diddley Dog]
I ain't got shyt to lose, cause five-oh sweat me anyway
So I use my survival tecniques in many ways
shyt if a nikka ever hustles, why not cut some rocks?
And if ever a nikka try to show some muscle, why not bust some shots?
Yeah, I got some sinister thoughts, in the back of my head
Ready to stack 'em up dead, I hate leaving the house without packing a bled
I got the heart of a killer in me
I've inhaled so much bomb smoke that I can fill a chimmeny
Man they should have never let me loose
Cause that crazy shyt don't faze me, bytch, it just kept me juiced
Crack selling, blackmailing and making presidents
And I ain't hesitant to burglarize your residence
Yeah it's that villian and I'm thinking of jacking tonight
Another killer cause my money ain't stacking too right
Down on my luck, I'm stuck cause my pockets is flat
Yeah I got my gat, so why the fukk do I have to stop why I act?
I got one motherfukking chance, buddy
And my intentions is to get my damn hands muddy
Her man's bloody cause I'm nutty when I start searching
Killing nikkas is my job and I'm hard working, fool
I'm up all night with an early rise
Waking up, twisting up motherfukkers like some curly fries, yeah
I'm trying to ride drop-top Vettes slamming
Utilizing these bytches with high credit cards that be check scamming
Yeah, some motherfukking Eastside thangs
So blaze up a fat sack and let your G ride swang
I'm in the game from the town and I'm stacking plenty
A gangsta-ass nikka with that macking in me
So if a nikka try to run up, I'm a hurt him first
And let him know I'm a G at this Dirty Work
[Too $hort]
W-O-R-K, I got a gang of hoes that like to work all day
And if you think that shyt ain't all right
I got some more hoes that like to work all night
But that's not the point, I'm trying to make
My shyt is so funky, got you buying my tapes
Year after year and I still ain't stopped
Got millions of fans and I still ain't pop
And I come so real, bytch, you can't stop
My motherfukking track record, you can faint and drop
And I wouldn't give a fukk cause I'm nothing but a dog, bytch
And you're nothing but a slut, want all dikk
But this nikka named $hort don't fukk for free
No punk-ass bytches coming up on me
And no nikka can tell me what to do with my life
Can't talk about $hort, you're brand new on the mic
Me and all my potnas got bytches, fool
And I be spitting on the mic about the shyt we do
I be a broke-ass pimp on the 31st
But tomorrow I be putting in some Dirt Work, bytch
[Rappin' Ron]
Ron's doing dizzert, leaving them nikkas hizzurt
Running up with that punk shyt, thinking that bootsy shyt work
fukking with them busters and you think that your back's got
The only thing that's got my back is this 16-shot black lock
And Ron is one of them nikkas you can't fukk with, so fukk that
Every time you bust bytch, I duck quick and bust back
If you want some motherfukking funk nikka, come and get this
And watch your ass fall like the London Bridges
You run with bytches, you just another sucker
Run up and fukk with us and you can suffer, motherfukker
And let me emphasize that I don't empathize
Straight to your brain til the pain intensifies
And if the cops hit my block, and they stopping to jock
fukk it, then I'm packing a glock, and popping a cop and watching him drop
I'm not finna stop, fukk 5-oh, fukk task, fukk the Feds
All you suckers buckle cause you fukking with a knucklehead
I kick your ass like Gymkata
And bust your motherfukking head wide open like a pinata
And all them finks who ratted me off and tried to jinx
Hit them nikkas block with the street sweeper
And now they whole crew extinct
I ain't playing, what I'm saying is that I'm spraying with a gat
fukking laing my AK and lay him on his back
Lay him flat, fukked up from the rat-tat-tat-tat
See my straps is ready to buck, soo all you saps get ready to buck
I'm giving a, fukk, Ron's about to fukk 'em up
Buck a uppercut or buck, I'm leaving these motherfukkers stuck
Cause I'm just a nut from the street leaving 'em deep in the dirt
And as long as you sleep I'm a keep doing Dirty Work
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